


You Really Got A Hold On Me

by tenandi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: <3, Apologies to real professional cuddlers, How to keep a professional distance, Or not, Things spice up later on but mostly fluff initially, dealing with stress, snuggle time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24792406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenandi/pseuds/tenandi
Summary: Anathema is tired of watching her boss slowly kill himself at work. Crowley needs to max relax, which is why she hires her friend Aziraphale to help him out as the owner of Angel's Arms, a professional cuddling service."I love you and all I want you to doIs just hold me, hold me, hold me"-The Beatles
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 150
Kudos: 345





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re stressed out,” Anathema observed, her arms crossed over her chest.

Crowley looked up from his desk overflowing with paperwork. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. His hand was subtly trembling from skipping lunch and breakfast, and dinner now that he recalled. As a busy executive for a booming financial security company, his weekdays were twelve hours on while his weekends were practically non-existent.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he deadpanned, flicking through a pile of single post-it notes that had built themselves back into a full-size stack.

“You should let me help you,” Anathema suggested. She was a good friend to Crowley and had been his assistant for over a year. Whatever he needed she did, unless it meant making him relax. She’d tried to schedule massages, meditation sessions, and even vacations for the man but he’d rejected them all, blaming his calendar. She knew for a fact that he hadn’t even gone on a date since they’d met. It wasn’t healthy.

Crowley gritted his teeth as he looked up at her. “How about another latte?” he asked.

The brunette frowned at him. “It’s almost eight at night! You’ll never get to sleep!”

Crowley sighed and leaned back in his chair, his muscles un-tensing for the first time in hours. “Sleep… Remind me what that is again?”

“That’s it,” Anathema said finally. “You’ve got a huge meeting coming up tomorrow and I can't let you go on this way. I’m calling a friend.”

“Whatever you like,” Crowley said absent-mindedly. “I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Good thing he makes house-calls,” she said breezily, quitting the room.

She returned half an hour later with her coat in hand. “Crowley, I’m leaving,” she announced. “Your appointment will be here any minute, so keep an eye out.”

Crowley was barely paying attention. “Night, Ana.”

As she’d promised, Crowley was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door to his office. He glanced up and stood abruptly when he saw a soft blonde man with sky-blue eyes. Something inside Crowley’s chest lurched and fluttered.

“Hello,” the blonde said as he entered. “You must be Crowley. I’m Aziraphale.”

The redhead held out his hand and Aziraphale took it before covering it with both of his own. One hand then traced up, squeezing his forearm. “Oh, Crowley,” he sighed. “You look ever so tired.”

The executive tried to stutter an excuse but gave up quickly. “Yeah,” he said in a sad voice. Something about Aziraphale’s presence was like a balm on his soul.

“Shh, it’s okay,” the blonde soothed him. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Aziraphale leaned forward and drew Crowley into his arms, burying him in a strong and protective hug. Crowley stiffened only for a second before relaxing, feeling pulled into the warm cocoon provided. He could hardly believe he was hugging a total stranger, but it felt so right, like he belonged in the man's embrace.

Aziraphale held him for a few beats before stepping away to see his face. “I trust Anathema has explained why I’m here?”

Crowley shook his head, suddenly worried. Was this some kind of sex thing? Had his assistant hired a prostitute? His heart began to beat rapidly at the thought.

Aziraphale noted his knit brow and chuckled gently. “There’s nothing to fear,” he assured him. “I’m a professional comforter with over five years of experience. My job involves offering and providing a safe space to relax and reconnect with another in a platonic capacity.”

“Um...” Crowley tugged at his tie. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Shall I show you?” Aziraphale asked.

The redhead rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “I guess?”

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and led him to the small sofa where the executive rarely spent any time. He gestured for the redhead to sit first, and then bent down in front of him to slip off his shoes. Crowley watched the man reveal his favorite 'Wednesday' socks and wiggled his toes a little. Aziraphale took off his own as well, setting them neatly near Crowley’s. Once that was done, he sat next to Crowley and held his hand, squeezing gently.

“Is this okay?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley stared down at where their palms connected and breathed in deeply. The exhalation he let out was shaky but calming all the same.

“You...you hold people’s hands?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale smiled at him and Crowley thought it one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. His eyes widened as if peace had been restored after a long war.

“Human touch is so critical to our survival,” the blonde replied. “Sometimes we forget to miss it when it’s gone, though. It’s a gift of service that I’m happy to provide. If you like, I can lean against your side as we hold hands.”

Crowley nodded, entranced by Aziraphale’s dulcet voice and tranquil presence. The blonde shifted his weight into one hip as he rested against the executive, and the scent of sweet orange and bergamot reached him for the first time, like a melody playing in the distance. White-blonde curls tickled against Crowley’s cheek.

“Isn’t this better?” Aziraphale asked, cuddling even closer. His arm swept over the redhead’s shoulder and drew him in until his freckled forehead was resting on his neck.

“Y-yeah,” Crowley’s voice cracked. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been held like this. His lower lip trembled and he sniffed, trying to stave off tears.

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Aziraphale said in a low voice. “It’s okay to feel anything. This is a safe space for you and your feelings.”

Crowley’s nose was wet as it made contact with Aziraphale’s shoulder, just beyond the barrier where his shirt met skin. The redhead hurried to wipe at it with his sleeve but the blonde only held him tighter. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispered.

Crowley wasn’t sure how much time passed as Aziraphale rocked him back and forth, petting his hair and drawing figure eights over the back of his hand. It might have been just a few minutes or a few hours. All he knew was that Aziraphale was speaking again, and his words tore away the protective veil that had surrounded him.

“I think our session is drawing to a close,” the blonde said.

Crowley’s muscles tightened and his fingers clamped down on the blonde, all plush velvet like a giant stuffed animal.

“I don’t want you to go,” the redhead said weakly.

Aziraphale laughed gently. “It’s always hard the first time...but you need to remember that it doesn’t have to be the last. Would you like for me to visit you again?”

Crowley disentangled himself from the blonde and nodded eagerly. “Please.”

“Anytime you need me, Anathema has my card,” Aziraphale said. “I’m available at odd hours, if necessary. I know you can’t plan for a crisis, so keep my contact information on your phone lest something comes up. I'll always be there for you.”

Crowley allowed the man to stand up and took in his rumpled clothing, the wet spot on his shoulder from Crowley's tears. “You really don’t mind?” he asked. “I mean...you like doing this?”

“Oh, indeed,” the blonde’s eyes sparkled. “I love my job. I love being able to bring care and comfort to those who need it most, like yourself.”

Crowley’s lower lip was wobbling again, but he tried to take solace in the fact that this could happen again. “Thank you,” he said meekly.

“Walk me out?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley all but lunged up from his seat to comply. They took the escalator down to the lobby and stopped just outside of the building, where Aziraphale pulled him back into another terrific hug.

“I’ll see you soon, my dear,” the blonde said, squeezing his shoulders.

Crowley drove himself home in a daze, his body barely able to function. When he got back to his flat, he landed face-first on his bed and fell into the deepest sleep he’d had in years.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Crowley’s meeting went better than he’d expected. He’d been pitching a new security solution to some of the board members but felt more confident than ever. He was well-rested, energetic, and even excited to present his ideas, and all of it was reflected by the board’s positive response.

Crowley felt like a new man as he walked into his office, even opening the shades to let the morning light in, which he never did. He was just sorting out his email when Anathema stopped by to give him his messages.

“Oh wow,” she remarked as she paused in the middle of the room. “Your aura is...bright. Jeez, I’ve got goosebumps!”

Crowley smothered a grin and continued to type on his keyboard. “Yeah, well,” he played it off. “Finally got some rest is all.”

“Hmm…” Anathema smiled. “I suppose it has nothing to do with a certain visitor yesterday evening.”

Crowley stopped typing and looked uncomfortable. “Did he tell you-”

Anathema cut him off. “Aziraphale doesn’t say anything about his private sessions. His work is confidential and he’s a consummate professional. But I’d hoped that you hadn’t just thrown him out of your office last night. He’s amazing at what he does.”

Crowley relaxed and stared at the wall. “Yes.”

“Well, if that’s all you need from me,” she said, laying the notes on his desk. She turned to leave but Crowley arrested her with his voice.

“Um, actually...do you have Aziraphale’s contact information? He mentioned I might keep it on me. Just in case.”

Anathema plucked a business card out of her pocket and handed it over. “Good idea,” she smiled.

Crowley waited until she was gone to inspect the card. A pair of embossed wings stretched out from either side of the name plate. Angel’s Arms, it read. Aziraphale Fell: Professional Comforter. The redhead placed the card on his desk and allowed one finger to trace over a wing, recalling the angelic curls that had swept against his cheek. “Angel,” he whispered to himself. “How fitting.”

-

A few days passed before Crowley looked at the card again. Everytime he thought about Aziraphale he was filled with a sense of peace, but things were getting more stressful at work with talk of a potential downsize. Crowley knew his own job was secure, but he hated the idea of laying off people who had been with the company for ages. It broke his heart, actually.

Crowley was sprawled across his bed in the highrise where he could see the London Eye lazily rotating as the sun set. He was flicking the card against his mouth, wondering if it was too soon to request Aziraphale’s services again. Was it like getting a massage where you needed to let your body rest? Or was it like therapy where you had to schedule days in advance? Aziraphale had promised to be around when needed...but how could Crowley express when he needed it?

He picked up the phone, deciding to let the expert work it out.

“Aziraphale Fell,” the harmonious voice answered. Soft jazz was playing in the background.

“Angel,” Crowley said, and then quickly realized his mistake. “I mean Aziraphale! Haha, sorry. It’s Crowley.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said fondly. “How are you? I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?” Crowley asked, his heart beating in double time.

“Yes,” the blonde replied. “I was hoping that things were settling down for you at work. How has everything been going?”

Crowley forced himself to calm down. Aziraphale was just doing his job after all. “Fine, good,” he said before trailing off. “But there’s talk of downsizing. I can’t get it off my mind.”

“Mmm,” Aziraphale hummed. “That is a very stressful situation to be in. I’m sorry that you have to deal with that.”

“It’s not about me, angel,” Crowley huffed, not noticing his second use of the nickname. “I worry about the people who work under me. Their families...their mortgages… I wish there was something I could do to prevent it.”

He heard a few dishes clink through the phone and felt his cheeks go pink. “Am I interrupting your dinner?” he asked nervously. “I’m so sorry if I-”

“No, no,” Aziraphale assured him. “I’m just cleaning up. It’s terribly rude of me to try to multitask. I should be listening to you.”

“Nah,” Crowley said instantly. “I’m just going on and on, anyways. I’m sure you have more important things to do.” He felt a familiar jolt of insecurity and self-loathing at the same time.

“Please don’t speak that way,” Aziraphale huffed gently. “Your thoughts and feelings are important to me. Now then, were you wanting to see me? Do you think that might make you feel better?”

Crowley felt dizzy. “I’m at home,” he said reluctantly.

“That’s no problem,” the blonde said. “I see clients in a multitude of atmospheres. One time I had a client with a panic attack in a stripclub. Not my usual scene, mind you, but I’m quite flexible depending on the circumstances.”

“Oh,” Crowley chuckled. “Well there’s nothing unseemly here...other than the lack of decor. Would you mind terribly? ...It might be nice.” He could have hit himself for sounding so desperate.

“Of course,” Aziraphale said. “Text me the address and I can be over within the hour.”

When Crowley rang off he clutched the closest pillow he had to his chest, trying to measure his breathing. Something about Aziraphale being in his flat was a little unnerving. Or exciting?

He was still holding his pillow when the doorbell rang half an hour later, and almost forgot to leave it on his bed as he stood up. He glanced down at his attire, hoping that a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt weren’t too casual, but Aziraphale had seemed to prioritize his comfort over anything else during their first session.

He opened the door and greeted the blonde, still not expecting it when he was wrapped in those strong arms once again.

“Hello, my dear,” the blonde breathed into his chest. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

“N-no,” Crowley affirmed. “You’re more punctual than the pizza delivery guy.”

Aziraphale huffed out a laugh and smiled brightly at the redhead. “I’m glad to hear it.” He inclined his head as he took in the surroundings. Crowley lived an austere but chic lifestyle with modern furniture and very few knick-knacks to crowd his space. “Tabula rasa,” the blonde noted. “It must be easy for you to unwind here.”

“Sometimes,” Crowley admitted. “Other times it just feels kind of empty. Can I get you anything?”

“No, dear,” Aziraphale said, smiling again and showing his lovely teeth. “Why don’t we settle in?”

Crowley looked around the living room and gestured toward it, allowing Aziraphale to take the lead. The blonde walked over to his couch and sat down before jumping back up. “Oh my!” he stated, looking vexed. “Is this made of cement?”

Crowley restrained a giggle and shrugged. “I ordered everything online,” he confessed. “So I didn’t have a chance to try it out first. It’s not the coziest spot in the house.”

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “I can see that. Where do you like to spend most of your time?”

Crowley blushed and gesticulated at nothing. “I dunno...my bedroom I guess. But-”

“Bedroom it is then,” Aziraphale confirmed.

“Is...is that okay?” Crowley asked anxiously. “Are you sure?”

“Not if it makes you uneasy,” the blonde said. “But I don’t mind at all. Many of my clients prefer their own bed for our sessions. It’s where they can relax and free their minds from the daily grind.”

“Oh…” Crowley looked a little lost before pointing the way. “It’s back here then.”

He led them to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, shoving the pillow he’d been hugging out of the way. He watched as Aziraphale bent down to remove his shoes, and then joined him on the bed.

“Ohh, yes,” the blonde groaned. “This is immeasurably better, isn’t it?” He scooted back toward the headboard and laid down, patting the space beside him. Crowley crawled toward him, unsure of how to arrange himself.

“Here,” Aziraphale invited, opening his arms. Crowley moved awkwardly as he shifted on the bed and snuggled into the blonde. Once he was there, he sighed in contentment and all of his troubles began to melt away.

“Can I ask you something?” Crowley began. “I mean...is it okay to talk to you?”

“Of course,” the blonde answered. “You can ask me anything you like.” His fingers moved to stroke over Crowley’s sideburn, drawing out a slight shudder.

“You said you like what you do...but have you ever had any clients who were...inappropriate with you? I mean...have you had to fire a client before?”

Aziraphale hummed low in his chest and it vibrated through Crowley’s head. “It’s not a perfect business,” he answered. “I’ve certainly come across some strange situations. But most people are earnest and kind. They want to feel the comfort of companionship and nothing more.”

“Oh,” Crowley blushed and buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder. “That’s good. I’d worry, you know. But I guess that’s why I do what I do instead.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replied. “Everyone has their calling and their own place in the world. This is mine.”

The redhead sighed happily as they breathed together, matching in rhythm for a while. After some time had passed he felt a crick growing in his neck. He shifted a little, trying to ameliorate the situation.

“Do we need to move?” Aziraphale asked. “I can show you some other ways to lie together.”

Crowley grunted in agreement but was surprised when Aziraphale maneuvered him onto his side, facing away from the blonde. Aziraphale spooned behind him, propping one arm under his neck while the other tightened over his chest. Crowley tucked his legs up and whimpered.

“Do you like this?” Aziraphale checked in.

“So much,” Crowley said in a tight voice. He was afraid he’d start crying again.

“It’s alright,” the blonde promised. “Don’t be afraid to show how you’re feeling.”

“I feel…” Crowley began and stopped. “It’s just been so long and…”

Aziraphale tutted and squeezed him harder. “I know, my dear. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Crowley couldn’t decide what he liked better. The fact that Aziraphale held him like he was something precious, or that he never showed even the slightest trace of judgement. It was so freeing. Unimaginable in light of Crowley’s past experiences.

They stayed like that for a long time until Aziraphale spoke again. “Do you mind if we move again, my dear?” he asked. Crowley nodded, his eyes hooded and nearly ready for bed.

Aziraphale rolled on to his other side and pulled Crowley with him, reversing their positions. The redhead’s breath hitched as his crotch met the blonde’s ample rear, and suddenly he didn’t dare move.

“Something wrong?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley inhaled the scent of the man, trying to calm himself down, but his body was beginning to react without his consent. He pulled away swiftly, balancing himself on the edge of the bed and breathing hard. His ears were burning as his hands folded over his lap.

Aziraphale waited for a moment before moving behind him, clasping his own hands around Crowley’s chest. “Are you feeling a little overwhelmed?” It was less of a question than a statement. “It’s natural to feel certain human responses to stimuli, Crowley. I’m not upset with you.”

“I just…” Crowley’s gaze bored a hole in the wall. “Feel like a pervert.”

“You aren’t. You’re just a man.”

Crowley flinched and inclined his head back toward the blonde. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispered. “We’re people, Crowley. And no one is perfect. We can work up to new positions at your own pace.”

“Okay,” Crowley said in a choked voice. He still felt embarrassed, but it was slowly fading away.

“Here,” Aziraphale recommended. “Why don’t you rest your head in my lap awhile?”

Crowley curled into a ball and did as he was directed. Soon his panic slipped away and was replaced by the blissful sedation Aziraphale provided.

“That’s better,” the blonde noted. His fingers stroked over Crowley’s neck, eliciting little sparks of pleasure that didn’t bare the weight of arousal.

By the time their session ended, Crowley was tired out and dragging his feet as he walked Aziraphale to the door. He couldn’t suppress a yawn as the blonde gave him a farewell hug.

“Oh my,” Aziraphale chuckled. “Looks like someone is ready to call it a night.”

“M’ knackered,” Crowley admitted with a dopey smile. His hair was sticking up on one side and Aziraphale stood on his tip-toes to smooth it down, drawing out another happy mewl from the redhead.

Aziraphale’s hand froze before retracting, but Crowley didn’t notice. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“Guess I’ll see you soon,” Crowley said absently as he scratched his chest, pushing down his shirt to reach the spot he wanted.

Aziraphale’s eyes flicked down to follow the movement. “Uh...sure,” he replied breathlessly, gaze lingering on the exposed auburn chest hair. “Um...always nice to see you of course. My dear.”

Crowley opened the door and Aziraphale skittered away, shaking his head a few times as if there was water in his ears. Crowley just smiled fondly and leaned against the door to shut it. He was already looking forward to another great night of peaceful slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn more about why Crowley needs all the snuggles

Aziraphale was rearranging his book collection when Anathema rang, and he was happy for the interruption. He’d already sneezed six times from the gathered dust, and it wasn’t likely to abate anytime soon.

“You’re a miracle worker, you know,” the woman said when he answered.

Aziraphale scoffed. “So they tell me. What’s this all about?” He stood up from the floor and swiped away a cobweb from his trousers.

“It’s Crowley,” Anathema said. “I’ve never seen him so relaxed. I was sure I’d watch him die of a heart attack right before my eyes one of these days. Now? I think he’ll outlive us all.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks burned with pleasure. “Well I’m happy to hear that he’s thriving.”

“More than thriving,” Anathema pressed on. “I caught him lingering over the fresh flower stall when we met for lunch the other day. I’ve never even heard him speak of a love interest, but surely it must be a sign, right?”

Aziraphale felt a sudden case of heartburn coming on and escorted himself to his medicine cabinet. “I wouldn’t know,” he answered. “But I’m sure she’s a very lucky lady.”

Anathema laughed so loudly that Aziraphale had to hold the phone away from his ear. “You’re joking!” she wheezed. “Crowley’s as straight as a cooked noodle.”

“Oh,” the blonde said as he fumbled with a jar of antacid. “I’d no idea. I don’t make it a habit to inquire about such things.”

Anathema took a while to recover but eventually stopped chuckling. “I really can’t thank you enough. Let me buy you dinner!”

Aziraphale perked up at the thought. “There’s that new Italian place…” he fished.

“Then Italian it is,” the brunette agreed. “Meet me there after work?”

Aziraphale smiled brightly. “It’s a date.”

-

Anathema was the first person Aziraphale had met after moving to London from Tadfield, a tiny town on the edge of nowhere. They had laughed after comparing mauled versions of their names on coffee cups at a Starbucks, and quickly befriended each other. While Anathema low-key practiced Wicca and believed she could divine the future, Aziraphale was very interested in faith-healing and alternative medicine. Although the blonde’s belief in these subjects waned as he finished college, his friendship with Anathema was made to last.

The pair of them were presently giggling over a bottle of fine wine and fettuccine.

“So, Zira,” Anathema couched, and the blonde could already see the predatory gleam in her eye. “What do you think of my boss?”

“Ana,” Aziraphale warned. “You know I don’t speak about my clients.” He was a little tipsy and a splash of wine landed on the tablecloth.

“Not unless I’ve liquored you up first,” Anathema commented. She knew her friend too well.

“The only thing I will say is that he’s quite lovely,” Aziraphale held firmly, but his gaze ricocheted off the plate in front of him to her dark eyes. “He must have an interesting history.”

“Mum’s the word,” Anathema said playfully, and relented with the pout of Aziraphale’s mouth. “But...I have gleaned some information from him over the last several months. I know he used to be in a pretty serious relationship. The guy was a total dickwad.”

“I do love your colorful American prose,” the blonde confessed.

“Prickwad? Knobwad? Whatever. He was emotionally abusive, as far as I can tell. So Crowley just threw himself into his work afterward. Hasn’t dated since.”

“Oh, it’s unbearable to hear,” Aziraphale lamented. “He seems like the most gentle and kind person.”

“Hates himself,” Anathema corrected. “But I think that’s what he was taught through his relationship or maybe even before then. And such a waste! He’s gorgeous, you know.”

Aziraphale took another sip of wine and hummed. “Mm I know.”

“Aha!” Anathema spat, looking victorious. “I knew you ‘fancied’ him!”

The blonde went as red as his wine and swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean...I only meant…My professional duty impedes me from-”

“Oh shut up,” Anathema moaned. “You always talk about safe spaces. I’m yours.”

Aziraphale played with the napkin in his lap. “I realize that. But it still feels wrong. He’s my client and your boss. There should be some red tape somewhere.”

“I won’t push anymore,” the brunette promised. “I’m not trying to compromise your work. But I know both of you and...I can’t help but imagine how good you’d look together.”

“Ana…” Aziraphale cautioned. It was enough to make her mimic the zipping of her lips.

“Next subject,” she pivoted easily. “How’s your love life?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes in response.

-

It was almost two weeks later that Crowley rang Aziraphale again, but this time the blonde had to take a second to register the words being said. Crowley was sobbing hysterically and trying to talk at the same time.

“What’s that my dear?” Aziraphale tried before giving up. “Where are you?”

“M’flat!” Crowley struggled to enunciate. Aziraphale stayed on the line as he hailed a cab, putting the newspaper he’d been about to purchase back on the stand.

“I’m on my way,” the blonde promised. “But please try to breathe! Can you breathe for me Crowley? One big breath in, hold for a few seconds, and out through the nose.”

He jumped into the cab, still coaching the redhead as he whispered the address.

Crowley had been calming down until Aziraphale appeared on the other side of the door, and suddenly all bets were off. His face twisted into agony and the blonde quickly came inside, noting that the executive was wrapped in his bedsheet and holding a pint of melty ice cream.

Aziraphale pulled him into a hug, allowing him to hiccup into his shoulder several times. As they embraced, the sheet fell off of one of Crowley’s shoulders, revealing his state of undress underneath. He had on a pair of maroon boxer-briefs and nothing else. Aziraphale quickly pulled the sheet back up, hiding his blush by pushing the redhead in front of him, steering toward the bedroom.

Crowley collapsed onto the mattress, ice cream pint ready to leak out on his pillow. Aziraphale snatched up the Raspberry Sherbet before it could stain the sheets and promptly stashed it in the freezer. When he came back, Crowley had gone silent and buried his head under the pillow.

“Okay my dear,” Aziraphale cautioned as he sat down. “Once you’ve gotten it all out we’ll talk.” He rubbed up and down Crowley’s back over the sheets, feeling him tremble as he did so.

Eventually Crowley’s face half-emerged from the bedding, blinking miserably.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s happened?” Aziraphale asked, fearing the worst.

Crowley nodded. “It shouldn’t be such a big deal…” he said in a squeaky voice, obviously staving off tears once more. “It’s just...my ex Cy called today. He rings me every once in a while and he says the most horrible things!”

Aziraphale frowned and laid down to mirror Crowley’s position. “What did he say?”

The redhead looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “H’says I’m worthless. Th’m’not worth loving. That I’ll never find anyone like him again....” His voice broke off and he shoved his head back under the pillow, hiding his face while he convulsed.

Aziraphale was glad for it because his own expression barely repressed the anger he felt. His eyes went cold and his mouth opened to reveal his clenched teeth. He took a deep breath to reign in his protective urges to find this odious man and...well...that wasn’t a very productive line of thought.

“Cy...” Aziraphale began, still a little off, “Couldn’t be more wrong.”

Crowley peeked out at the blonde. “Yeah?”

Aziraphale held his gaze steadily, like a parent disciplining a child. “You are a wonderful person, Crowley. You work hard and you care even more. No one...absolutely no one...gets to decide for you about anything. Certainly not what you deserve, and definitely not who gets to love you. You are worthy. Kind. And absolutely loveable.”

Crowley whimpered and emerged from his cave, fingers reaching out. Aziraphale grasped them easily and pulled the redhead flush against him, facing each other.

“I don’t think this Cy should continue to contact you. Do you agree, Crowley?”

The redhead nodded but he looked scared. Aziraphale couldn’t help himself as he leaned in and pressed his lips to his forehead, soothing those worry lines away. He tucked Crowley’s face into his chest and sighed heavily.

The redhead shuddered on and off in his arms, eventually finding his confidence returning. Aziraphale wondered what the devil this man Cy had put Crowley through. Emotionally abusive indeed. Had it gone farther than that?

It was a long time before Crowley spoke again, but his voice sounded stronger when he did. “We were together for six years…” he mused. “I can’t believe I stayed with him so long.”

“Why did you?” Aziraphale asked, running his fingers through Crowley’s auburn hair and pulling lightly at the nape.

Crowley huffed and squeezed closer, wrapping his thigh around Aziraphale’s calf. “I thought I had to. I believed him when he said I wouldn’t make it without him. And sometimes I thought that if I could be good enough...he’d finally love me back the way I wanted.”

“You know none of that is true, right?” Aziraphale asked before clarifying. “You never have to be with someone. You can take care of yourself and love yourself. You are good and enough, with or without someone else’s approval. And you shouldn’t have to change or alter yourself to win them over.”

“I know…” Crowley sighed. “In my head I know. But I have all these feelings and they overwhelm me. I get lost. I feel like I’m drowning.”

“He manipulated your feelings,” Aziraphale said. “He took advantage of your capacity and willingness to love. That can be hard to recover from.”

The blonde looked down and used a finger to raise Crowley’s chin. Tear tracks had dried on his cheeks, but he looked better. More himself. “My darling,” Aziraphale said. “Are you ready to block his number and end his ability to reach you?”

Crowley nodded bravely before reaching under his pillow to bring out his phone. He heaved a weary groan as he located the number and looked to Aziraphale for final confirmation. The blonde nodded and waited. Steeling himself, Crowley blocked his ex and cradled the phone to his chest.

“How does that feel?” Aziraphale asked gently.

Crowley’s eyes fell shut. “Like escaping a cage.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley attends his first cuddle party! And continues to be kind of a disaster.

Crowley had a few more sessions after the Cy incident as residual feelings bubbled up to the surface, but eventually Aziraphale decided that the redhead was ready for the next step. As a professional comforter, Aziraphale threw quarterly parties for his clients, often encouraging them to bring along others who might benefit from the therapy. He decided to moot the idea with the redhead after a particularly refreshing session.

Instead of looking tired, Crowley appeared energized and even peckish as Aziraphale brought their weekly session to a close. He figured this was as good of an opportunity as any to extend an invitation to his cuddle party.

“Cuddle party?” the redhead asked. “What in the world is that?”

“It’s a lot like what we do when we’re alone,” Aziraphale explained. “But in a larger social environment. Some of my clients find it invigorating to share what they’ve learned while-”

“Cuddling each other?” Crowley interrupted. He looked skeptical. “Isn’t that kind of weird? Complete strangers and all that?”

“It can be intimidating at first,” Aziraphale agreed. “But the benefits far outweigh the situational aspect. Imagine being in a room where there was no such thing as rejection.”

Crowley’s cheeks flushed as he looked down at the floor. “I thought that was what we had.”

“It is, of course!” Aziraphale sat next to the redhead and put his arm around his shoulders. “Silly goose. The difference is that there’s an opportunity to ask for the things you want from other people, and to deny anything that makes you uncomfortable. It’s good practice for defining your boundaries and reinforcing them, where necessary.”

Crowley didn’t look convinced. “So I wouldn’t be forced to touch anyone?”

“Not at all!” Aziraphale laughed. “Some people prefer to observe rather than participate, and that’s okay too. Of course, you don’t have to come at all if you don’t want. I just wanted to let you know you were welcome.”

“Where will it be at? Your house?” Crowley asked, somewhat hopefully.

“No,” Aziraphale replied. “I like to use a suite at a hotel. A neutral space that’s familiar to everyone, like a conference almost. But there was something I wanted to ask you about, pertaining to the guest list.”

Crowley looked at him expectantly.

“I was thinking about inviting Anathema, but I wasn’t sure if that would make you feel more or less comfortable.”

Crowley thought about it for a minute. “I think I’d prefer it if there was someone there I already knew. In addition to you, I mean.”

“Okay,” the blonde smiled knowingly. “I’ll send you the information and there’s no obligation. If you decide to skip it I won’t be upset in the least. I want to make sure you understand that.”

Crowley’s lashes fluttered as he met Aziraphale’s gaze. “Alright then. Thanks, Aziraphale.”

“Don’t mention it,” the blonde concluded.

-

Crowley dithered outside of the hotel room, still uncertain about what would happen when he entered. But he tried to remind himself that this was Aziraphale’s event. He wouldn’t allow anything negative to happen. And Anathema would be inside as well. He’d almost built up the courage when he saw a short blonde woman approach, looking about as nervous as he felt.

“Trying to get up the nerve?” she asked sweetly. “I’ve already left and come back twice.”

Crowley laughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s definitely overwhelming.”

“I tried to convince my wife to come with me but she had concert tickets with a mate of ours,” the woman confessed. “Coming on my own isn’t something I’d normally do. I’m Beth, by the way.”

He looked at her outstretched hand and shook it. “Crowley,” he replied. “Nice to meet you. You know Beth, I might have an idea. Maybe we could go in together. What do you think?”

She looked infinitely relieved. “I’d like that...only… Would you mind holding my hand? You don’t have to, I just think-”

Crowley grinned and squeezed her hand gratefully. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

The pair entered the room and were surprised to see nearly twenty people inside. There was a welcome table with name tags by the door, along with some snacks and drinks. No alcohol, Crowley noted.

“Hey guys!” a man greeted them as they finished applying their name tags. “I’m Adam! I work as a professional comforter and I’m kind of helping get everyone oriented. Aziraphale is going to do an introduction soon, but feel free to sit anywhere or grab some food. This is going to be amazing, so I hope you both enjoy it!”

Crowley and Beth giggled nervously and found a spot on the sofa to wait. From across the room, Crowley spotted Anathema and she waved at him cheerfully. Her boyfriend Newt was with her and perked up when he saw the redhead. They’d often chat when Newt came by to drop off Anathema’s lunch.

At last, Aziraphale appeared from the back and hugged a number of people before sitting down. Crowley’s heart plunged when he realized he hadn’t been seen yet. He wished he could have gotten a hug from the blonde before this all started. It was such a strange, needy feeling. And was he just a little bit jealous?

Aziraphale made a short speech about the purpose of the party, much of it repeated from what he’d explained to Crowley. As he spoke, warmth emanated from his voice and gestures. He looked so comfortable with himself in the center of the circle. At last, he turned around and noticed Crowley, shooting him a wink. Crowley’s heart soared and he couldn’t have caught it if he tried. He relaxed back in his seat, luxuriating in the glow.

Aziraphale finished up the introduction and encouraged everyone to mingle, advising them how best to accept or deny any specific requests. After that, the party went into full swing, and Crowley looked at Beth with panic in his eyes.

“It’s okay!” she reassured him. “Why don’t you and I hang out for a second and see what everyone else does?”

Crowley sighed in relief, happy to observe for a while longer. He continued to hold hands with Beth and chat about their jobs for a while, but soon he became curious about meeting other people. Beth looked like she was ready as well, so they went their separate ways and ventured out.

Crowley couldn’t help but zero in on Aziraphale, who was currently rubbing some man’s back while talking to two other people. Crowley smiled at him as he walked by, hoping that he’d get a chance to spend time with him later.

He was just crossing the room when a man walked up to him and ran a hand through his hair, obviously nervous. “Hey,” the guy said. “I’m Bruce.”

“Hello, Bruce,” Crowley said, introducing himself as well.

“I don’t mean to jump on you but you remind me of my older brother,” Bruce said. “Do you want to chat for a bit?” Crowley smiled and they stretched out on the floor. Soon Newt dropped by and joined in the conversation as a woman appeared behind Crowley’s shoulder.

“You have the most beautiful hair!” she giggled. “Do you mind if I play with it?”

“Please!” Crowley laughed. She sat down behind him and started to run her fingers over his scalp, making him melt under her touch. Fuck, this was an awesome party.

Crowley darted little glances at Aziraphale as the evening wore on, and caught his eye every second time. Crowley would quickly look away or pretend he was looking at something else, but he felt better each time the blonde acknowledged him. It was like having an invisible anchor or lifeline, just in case he needed it.

Crowley didn’t end up cuddling anyone directly, but he rejoiced when Aziraphale finally sat by his side. “You’re doing marvelously,” the blonde confided. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Everyone is so nice!” Crowley confessed. “I feel like I’ve known some of these people my whole life!”

“That’s lovely, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled. He inclined his head and looked thoughtful. “Would you like to do some eye gazing? I don’t believe we’ve practiced that before.”

“Sure,” Crowley agreed. “What do we do?”

Aziraphale crossed his legs and sat up straight. “Would you like to sit in my lap first?”

Crowley tried to speak rather than shout his response. “Yes.” He leaned forward and the blonde caught his hips, easing him into position as his long legs wrapped around the man. It felt so good to be close to him again. And so intimate in this way.

“Perfect,” Aziraphale said. “Now I can give you my full attention.”

Crowley’s heart fluttered rapidly.

The blonde looked into his eyes, deeply concentrating. Crowley quickly realized it wasn’t a staring contest, but an opportunity to connect on a higher level. His gaze softened, and he felt Aziraphale’s arms come around his lower back.

“How’s that?” the blonde asked. The corner of his mouth twitched and Crowley let out a small breath of air.

“Good,” the redhead said quietly.

Aziraphale rocked him slowly, humming under his breath as he seemed to map Crowley’s eyes. For Crowley, he 100% took advantage of being able to stare into the blonde’s baby blues, teasing out every shade that complemented his irises. A soft brown around his pupils, the scattering of olive specks around the edges. They looked like blown glass.

He had to catch himself a few times as their connection deepened. The longer he looked, the more he wanted to lean in. His gaze faltered and skipped down to the blonde’s mouth, to the divot just above his upper lip. Crowley wanted to trace it with the tip of his tongue. He groaned softly, unconsciously, his legs tightening around Aziraphale's waist. “Angel…”

“Sorry!” Crowley said suddenly, peeling out of the trance. He scrambled backwards and bumped into a couple that had been peacefully cuddling. “Sorry!” he squeaked again. His eyes went wild as he tried to regroup, but trepidation consumed him. Had Aziraphale seen what was in his eyes? Did he know how he felt about him? Even Crowley hadn’t really known the depth of his infatuation until that moment. It was all too much.

Crowley stumbled as he rose, hands out and clawing at the air. He made it to the door and slammed it behind him, steadying himself against the wall. The door opened again and Aziraphale appeared, resting a hand on Crowley’s chest.

“Hey, heyyy,” his voice soothed. “Everything’s okay. Can you look at me Crowley?”

“Nkk. Ghh.” Crowley was internally combusting. Memories and flashes of him and Aziraphale were sliding into place, forming a picture of desire that felt unquenchable. And the last time he’d felt this way...the aftermath of everything...

“Have to go!” Crowley gasped out.

“Okay,” Azirphale replied, but his voice was more of an echo in the ether. Crowley tore out of the hotel, never gaining the courage to look back even once.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley falls back into old habits. Aziraphale slays a dragon.

Crowley calmed down once he reached his flat. He debated whether he should call Aziraphale to apologize, but eventually decided that he just needed some time to sort out his feelings. Maybe his fixation was just transference. Aziraphale had been so sweet and kind to him...and it had been too long since he’d been with anyone.

In the following days, everything seemed to be getting better. Crowley had started to compartmentalize his feelings and talk himself out of the idea that Aziraphale was his soul mate. Some resentment followed this process, but he tried to not blame the blonde. It’s not as if they’d been dating or anything. Crowley was his client, and that was it. His heart deflated with the thought.

He was trying to push the unwelcome notion out of his head when his phone started ringing. He picked it up and didn’t recognize the number but answered anyways, giving a terse greeting as he fumbled with an armful of clean laundry.

“You blocked my number.”

Crowley froze and the clothing he’d been holding scattered on the floor. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his head.

“Why do you do things like this? Why do you play these little games with me? We both know it only delays the inevitable.”

Cy’s voice was poisonous. Crowley tried to focus inward, remembering the things Aziraphale had told him.

“I don’t want to be in contact with you anymore,” the redhead intoned heavily, robotically. Yet he still held the phone to his ear.

Cy laughed and sighed. “You’re such a fucking liar. Who was it that called me...begged me to come over last time? You were crying, as I remember. Said you missed me. That you’d never stop loving me.”

Crowley shuddered and a cold chill went down his spine. “That was a mistake. I was...I was drunk.”

“I told you when you left that you’d never really leave,” Cy replied. “You didn’t believe me...yet again and again you’ve come running back to me. ‘Fix it for me, Lucifer,’ and ‘Tell me that I’m good.’ You’re so pathetic.”

Crowley steeled himself. Aziraphale’s voice was whispering to him. ‘You can take care of yourself and love yourself. You are good and enough, with or without someone else’s approval.’

“What do you want, Cy?”

“Want? I don’t want anything. I already have everything that I need. But what about you, Anthony? I hate to think of you all alone...not a friend in the world. Not even your family will speak to you. God, you must get so depressed.”

Crowley inhaled shallowly. “Sometimes...” His voice was high and unguarded. He was beginning to confuse his sessions with Aziraphale and his former partner. Which one was the safe space? He felt too open. Too vulnerable.

“And I’m the only one who can make it better,” Cy purred. “Tell me how much you miss me.”

Crowley’s legs were shaking under him. He folded down onto the floor, adrift in a sea of laundry. “I do,” he said, repressing a sob. “I miss you so much.” Aziraphale’s steady hands around his shoulders. Cy’s body twisting around his own, naked between the sheets.

“That’s better Anthony. At least now you’re being honest. You know I hate it when you lie to me.”

The redhead’s lower lip began to tremble. Cy wasn’t even in the room with him yet he felt weighed down. “You’ll come over?” he asked hopefully.

Cy chuckled long and low. “And why would I do that? What makes you think I want to see you? I’m very busy, Anthony.”

Crowley whimpered. The emotional tug of war was commencing. Cy only let out enough rope for Crowley to hang himself, slowly pulling it back like a cat playing with an insect.

“Don’t leave me alone,” Crowley begged. “I don’t have anything! Like you said! I’m...I’m nothing without you! No one else wants me!”

Cy was quiet for a long while. “What does that mean…I wonder. Have you had your eye on someone, Anthony? Did you...did you seriously think that they might return your interest?”

Crowley began to panic. “No! I mean I thought… I thought he might but...I’m so stupid!”

Cy breathed out heavily. “I see I’ll need to sort you out. You know what’s going to happen next.”

The line went dead and Crowley stared at his cell before dropping it on the floor. He scrambled back against the dryer and waited, shoulders tense. He knew exactly what would happen next.

-

Cy stood in his doorway, a knowing look on his sickeningly handsome face. He pressed into the room past Crowley and looked around, the scent of his cologne following him in.

“Has he been here?” Cy asked, turning in a slow circle. He watched Crowley’s face intently.

“Yes,” Crowley whispered, eyes lowered.

“And did he touch you?” Cy pressed. His voice was so dark and smoky. Possessive.

“Yes,” Crowley answered, voice breaking. “But not like you think. Not...sexually.”

Cy let out a deep sigh and placed his hands on his hips. “Then how.”

Crowley trembled under his gaze. “He held me in his arms. Hugged me. That’s all.”

Cy laughed cruelly. “Well how fucking romantic! And pitiful. Come over here.”

The redhead walked over woodenly and stood before his ex. Cy’s arm moved up and he placed his hand in Crowley’s hair. Instead of the soft warm tugs Aziraphale bestowed, he felt a sharp pain as the man pulled at the roots. Cy pushed him down onto his knees and sneered at him.

“Make it good,” Cy said, “And maybe I’ll let you cum tonight.”

Crowley’s fingers shook as they reached for the man’s fly.

-

Crowley woke up alone in the morning, and his bed felt more empty than ever. He gasped as he tried to sit up, feeling bruises and bite marks all over his body. His arse was aching and his throat was sore. He felt like garbage. Putrid, filthy garbage. He made it to the shower and sat down as the water sprayed over him, forehead balanced on his crossed arms.

The soap didn’t seem to cleanse and the water couldn’t wash away the capacity to which he’d been used. He thought he had wanted it at the time, but he only felt even emptier in the end. After sleeping again for several hours, he hesitated before calling Aziraphale.

“Aziraphale Fell!” his chipper voice replied.

Crowley blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“Crowley?” the blonde asked worriedly. “Are you there?”

Was he? Kind of. “I’m somewhere,” he replied. “Here, I think.”

“You sound strange,” Aziraphale said. “I think I’ll pop over.” He’d already been concerned after the redhead’s abrupt departure from the party. He was afraid he’d made Crowley uncomfortable with the eye gazing session, that he’d gone too far and scared him off. He was secretly glad to hear from him again at all.

“You don’t have to,” Crowley heard his own voice say. He felt like he was leaving his body.

“No, I don’t,” Aziraphale said surprisingly. “But I want to. I’ll be there presently.”

Crowley answered the door in a daze, wearing only a black silk robe. He looked like he’d slept on wet hair. Deep shadows gathered under his eyes. Aziraphale moved to embrace him and Crowley flinched, causing the blonde to pause.

“Crowley…” he said. “You must tell me what’s happened.”

The redhead backed away and started to walk toward his bedroom but veered away, settling on the hard couch instead. He didn’t want Aziraphale to be in the space where he’d… He shoved his face into his hands and felt the couch dip next to him.

“I won’t touch you,” the blonde said softly. “But please tell me what’s going on. Is this about the other night at the party?”

Crowley blinked and seemed to come back to himself. “No. No, not… I got a little overwhelmed is all.” His shoulders tensed up and he stared at Aziraphale’s hand on the cushion next to him. “Cy came over last night.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale’s face tightened. “How did that happen?”

Crowley shrugged. “Same way it always does. I was...sad. Confused? I forgot what you told me. I forgot how to say no and the...the boundaries I’ve been working on.” He slumped forward and his robe gapped open. The blonde let out a shocked gasp.

Aziraphale’s fingers drew nearer and hovered over Crowley’s chest. “Did he do this to you?” he whispered, studying the ugly marks.

Crowley turned red with embarrassment, but didn’t bother to cover himself. Part of him wanted Aziraphale to see what he really was. He nodded mutely, eyes blank.

“Crowley...may I please hold you?”

The redhead nodded again, but made no effort to move. Aziraphale shifted and gently, oh so gently brought his arms around him, cradling him like a child. Crowley resisted for a moment before sinking into it, trying to remember what it meant to be touched like this. That he was valuable? Was that it?

Aziraphale was speaking. “Crowley, that’s not what love is. Do you understand? That’s not what love does.”

Crowley made a high-pitched sound and began to shake, slowly unravelling in the blonde’s tender hold. “M’not loved!” he cried by way of explanation.

Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut and banished his own tears. He had to be strong for Crowley right now. He took a deep breath and spoke straight from the heart, as openly as he could manage. Even if it took something from him to say it. “You are more loved than you could ever possibly imagine.”

Crowley started and sat up, wiping away his messy tears as he stared into Aziraphale’s eyes. They flashed, almost dangerously. A storm of emotion passed over the blonde’s face before he seemed to come back to himself. “Will you let me borrow your phone?”

The redhead stared at him. “What’r you...what are you gonna do?” He looked terrified, and that only made the blonde more insistent. He held out his hand and Crowley placed the cell in his palm, swallowing a knot in his throat.

“Excuse me for just a moment,” Aziraphale said. He stood, scrolling down until he found the contact he was looking for. With that, he quit the room, quietly shutting Crowley’s bedroom door behind him.

Crowley fidgeted on the couch. He vaguely heard the sound of Aziraphale’s voice through the door. It was professional, if not a little lower than usual. As he continued to speak, his tone became even lower and softer. Crowley began to sweat as the minutes ticked by, but at last Aziraphale emerged from the room and set the phone on the table. His face was composed but pink, and Crowley could see his jaw twitching.

“What did you say?” the redhead whispered breathlessly.

Aziraphale breathed in and his lips flattened into a serious line. “I won’t trouble you with that. More importantly, Cy will not be contacting you again.”

Crowley’s mouth gaped open in amazement and a rush of adoration consumed him. He reached over for Aziraphale’s hand and intertwined their fingers, unsure of how to express his gratitude and admiration.

‘He did that for me!’ Crowley thought again and again. His heart clenched and swelled, rallied and bound itself in golden light. Aziraphale had told him what love wasn’t, and in the process taught him exactly what it was.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The romance intensifies...Aziraphale finds himself in a compromising position.

Crowley didn’t know what to do with himself. He replayed his last interaction with Aziraphale like a song stuck in his head. A really good, uplifting song that pulled him out of himself every time he heard it. The way he’d dealt with Cy, like a Mafia hitman. How he’d come over of his own accord just to check in. The way he seemed to peer into his soul, anticipating his every need. And…“You are more loved than you could ever possibly imagine.”

Crowley writhed on the bed. The sheets were fresh and silky around his naked body. One hand trailed down from sternum to belly button and he stubbornly forced it back up. He wanted nothing more than to fall into the dream that Aziraphale might return his feelings. If he didn’t, touching himself was extended torture. And if he did...Crowley wanted him to be the one to do it. He rolled over on his stomach and groaned, aching for it.

Each day passed and faded into a long string of forgettable hours. He wasn’t sure what to do about Aziraphale and the heaviness that rested on his chest.

He didn’t even intend to ring up the comforter again for a good long while except that he ended up having an absolutely tragic day at work a few weeks later. He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he needed the most.

It was a Friday evening when Aziraphale’s phone buzzed and he picked it up casually before recognizing the number. Instantly he dropped the phone and arranged his hair as if he could be seen. Realizing that this wasn’t the case, he answered breathlessly.

“Aziraphale Fell,” he announced.

“Yes, I know,” Crowley said, sounding irritable.

“Bad day?” Aziraphale asked, wishing he still had a chord to wind around his finger. Stupid technological advances.

“The week from hell,” the redhead intoned. “Word finally came down from head office. I have to cut ten percent of our workforce.”

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale swallowed. “You must be feeling very anxious.”

Crowley hiccuped and laughed bitterly. “Something like that. Look, I know this is unusual but do you think we could meet out somewhere? I can’t relax at home and I sure as hell don’t want to go back to the office.”

“If that’s what you need,” the blonde allowed. “What were you thinking?” He heard the sound of muffled conversation in the background.

“I’m at a pub in Soho presently,” Crowley sighed. “Don’t suppose you-”

“The Lyric?” Aziraphale inquired. “French House? Oh, I know. The Dog and Duck.”

Crowley spat out a laugh. “That’s the one. I’m at the bar.”

“I’ll be there in two shakes of a tail feather,” Aziraphale said.

“What?” Crowley asked in confusion, but the line went dead.

Aziraphale entered the bar in under fifteen minutes, surprising the redhead who was waiting for him. Crowley was wearing what appeared to be the tightest trousers in existence along with a deep v-neck tee and a dark jacket. On his feet were snakeskin boots with pointy toes. Aziraphale tried not to appear as flustered as he felt, but Crowley looked devastating.

“You must have been in the area,” Crowley commented. The blonde was also a little overdressed for the occasion, wearing a beige suit and vest along with a tartan bow tie. “Were you...working?”

“Yes. I live just around the corner, actually,” Aziraphale confided. “I keep a little shop.”

Crowley swiveled on his barstool and let his legs spread open, drawing a faint blush from the blonde. “Hm. So not a full-time professional cuddler, then.”

“Ahaha,” Aziraphale chuckled. “No...in comparison it’s almost a hobby. I collect and sell rare books.” He stopped himself, realizing that this was more than he’d usually share with a client.

Crowley looked impressed. “That’s remarkable,” he said, and then muttered, “But everything about you is remarkable.”

Aziraphale’s blush grew into a heavy red stain. “Hardly. But tell me about what’s going on with you. Are you doing these layoffs relatively soon?”

Crowley’s somewhat cheerful demeanor vanished immediately. “Yeah. Monday.”

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale empathized. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“You can. You are!” the redhead insisted. “Share a pint with me. I guess snuggling’s off the menu...at least while we’re in public.” He gave the blonde a sardonic grin.

Aziraphale almost mentioned they could procure a booth, but resisted. Comforting wasn’t always about touch, after all. “Tell me how you’re feeling,” he said instead. The bartender came by and Crowley held up a few fingers, signaling for another round.

“Like...the worst bad guy villain in a spaghetti western. The one who only exists to be thwarted by the real hero of the story. Might as well be stealing from children or widowing some poor old woman.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle. “So...melodramatic, I take it.”

“Maybe a bit,” Crowley admitted. “And maudlin. And morose.”

“All the terrible ‘M’ words are covered,” Aziraphale nodded along. He straightened up when the bartender shoved a pint in his direction, and he sipped at it with enthusiasm.

“Machievellian,” Crowley added. “Malefic.”

“Masculine,” Aziraphale mused and then downed a third of his drink. “Nope. Sorry! Just the first word that came to mind. But we aren’t playing a word game, Crowley.”

“No?” Crowley took a gulp of beer and rested his chin on his hand. “I’d rather be.”

“Would that cheer you up?” the blonde asked. “Scrabble’s always good for a laugh.”

“Until you get all the consonants,” Crowley groused. “Always happens to me. It’s like there are two vowels in the box! Y’ever notice that?” His voice had gone high and squeaky, somehow charming Aziraphale down to his toes. He sighed and took another drink. They lapsed into silence as they finished their beers.

“That was terrible,” the blonde complained. “And I’m not likely to find a good alternative here.”

“No,” Crowley replied, remorseful. “It’s all shite. And this isn’t what you do, is it?”

Aziraphale was ready to agree until he saw the look in Crowley’s eyes. He looked so sad and vulnerable. He realized there were a lot of things he didn’t ‘do’ that he suddenly wanted to. Steeling himself, he pushed away from the bar and threw a few notes on it.

“Come on then,” he said softly, drawing the redhead up with him.

Crowley fell in line and they walked outside, the London fog settling in as the night advanced. Aziraphale took Crowley’s arm and steered them in the direction of his flat. “I can amend one wrong tonight,” the blonde confessed. “The least I can do is offer you a fine red.”

They’d barely gone a block before Aziraphale swerved, pulling out his keys and leading his companion inside the bookshop. He didn’t overanalyze it as Crowley stepped over the threshold, his eyes wide as he took in the interior, books lining every wall and shelf. The redhead whistled, leaning against the counter where Aziraphale spent most of his time.

“You don’t have to pretend to be impressed,” the blonde colored as he waved Crowley over to a worn down couch by the fireplace. He grabbed a bottle of wine from over the hearth and opened it before pouring equal measures into two glasses.

Crowley took the one offered to him and collapsed on the sofa. “And yet I am,” he said. “You did all this?” His voice was high and lilting again.

Aziraphale smiled to himself, secretly proud as he sat on the edge of an adjacent chair. “I did. It took years to amass my collection. But we shouldn’t be talking about me. I wanted to comfort you.”

“Oh,” Crowley said as he leaned forward. “Then why are you all the way over there?”

Aziraphale caught the gleam in his eye and hesitated. What exactly was he doing? He’d never brought a client to his shop before. He’d certainly never indulged in a drink with one. And now here was Crowley looking more comfortable in Aziraphale’s space than he’d ever been. Maybe it was the alcohol. He needed to tread lightly.

Aziraphale’s body moved of its own accord as he sidled up next to the redhead. “Well then, here I am.”

Crowley relaxed instantly. He kicked off his boots and nestled into the blonde’s side like a warm bath at the end of the day. The tension Aziraphale had felt melted, and his caretaker side took over as Crowley wrapped around him.

“I’m so sorry for everything you’re dealing with,” the blonde said.

“S’not your fault,” Crowley grumbled, pawing at Aziraphale’s shirt like a content cat. His cheek nestled into the blonde’s chest and he harrumphed quietly. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile-frown at the adorable sound. His hand settled on the redhead’s back and swept high and low in long, steady strokes.

“You’re good,” Crowley said quietly. “You’re so good.”

“I...hope so,” Aziraphale replied. “I endeavor to be. But we all have faults.”

“No,” Crowley countered like a petulant child. “Not you.”

Aziraphale laughed darkly. “You’ve no idea…” he muttered to himself.

“What?” The redhead sat up in expectation. “Tell me one bad thing about yourself. You’re an angel.”

Aziraphale giggled at that. “Oh, if only.”

Crowley held his gaze a little too long before sweeping his hand back to the table, regaining his drink. He downed it one go before sitting back. “Dare you.”

“Alright.” Aziraphale realized they were going to play a different type of game. He finished his wine before continuing to keep up with the redhead. “When I was ten, I pushed my brother down the stairs. On purpose.”

Crowley’s cheeks brightened and he choked in surprise. “No!”

“Yes,” Aziraphale swore. “He called me a...oh what was it...a southern pansy. So down he went.”

Crowley hooted with pleasure before sobering. “Was he hurt?”

“He was fine,” Aziraphale said emphatically, drawing out the last syllable. “But he certainly made a show of it. Mum made me do his chores for a month.”

Crowley stood up and grabbed the wine bottle, repouring for himself and the blonde. “Bet he didn’t fuck with you after that. But you’re on a roll now. Don’t stop.”

Aziraphale chuckled and took a sip of his refill, humming softly. “Cheated on an exam in college. I’d meant to study but I stayed up all night watching telly. The next day I made sure to sit next to the smartest girl in class.”

“Devious!” Crowley mock-censored. He collapsed back onto the sofa, basically crawling up Aziraphale’s chest. “One more, please. I have to know I’m not alone.”

“You’re never alone,” Aziraphale said easily, and Crowley felt his heart break. His fingers sank into the blonde’s waistcoat. “But my supreme evil deed…” He seemed to consider what he was about to say before taking a deep drink from his glass. “Fancied a client once.”

Crowley gawked at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“S’true,” Aziraphale slurred, suddenly realizing how quickly the wine had caught up with him. When was the last time he’d eaten? Did it matter? “Didn’t mean to of course, but sometimes you can get a little caught up.”

He met Crowley’s eyes, the almond contours of them. Such delicious chocolate honey. He watched as the redhead’s tongue snuck out to wet the crease of his lips.

“What happened…?” Crowley asked, leaning in a little too close.

Aziraphale inhaled sharply before he downed the rest of his glass and Crowley did the same.

“This…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heatin' Up!

Crowley’s eyelids closed and Aziraphale’s gaze swept over his unguarded expression. Had he ever beheld beauty like this before? Crowley’s lips parted for him in expectation. A tiny battle consumed the blonde as his fingers tightened around his empty glass. It had gone too far, hadn’t it?

“You don’t want to do this,” Aziraphale heard his own voice speaking.

Crowley’s eyes opened and blinked blurrily. “Don’t want to…”

“It can get confusing sometimes,” the blonde said, abruptly standing. He lunged toward the wine bottle and grasped it miraculously. Maybe just another sip. His head swam. What time was it?

Crowley stared at him, waiting for something. Aziraphale gestured in the air.

“My job is weird,” he admitted. “Not my book job. My other job.” Crowley nodded along contentedly. Aziraphale wondered how much he’d had to drink before he’d arrived at the bar.

“I literally hold people…” Aziraphale mused out loud. “Isn’t that odd? I hold them and I tell them that everything is going to be okay. Even though I don’t know! How could I? I don’t know if everything’s going to be okay! Yet I say it…”

Crowley shoved his empty glass into the air and Aziraphale filled it, setting the cashed bottle on the coffee table with a loud clank.

“Maybe I’m just a big liar.” Aziraphale was really getting into it now. The room focused in and out like someone was opening and shutting the blinds in the dark.

“Yr’not,” Crowley objected. “I’wd know.”

Aziraphale scoffed and then stuffed it down. What was his point? “D’you think everything’s going to be okay?” The blonde’s face crumpled and he held back a sob. He was falling apart.

Crowley leaned back into the sofa and for a second it looked like he was going to pass out, but he rallied. He lunged forward and nearly tripped over the carpet before his hands met their target - the blonde’s outstretched arms. “I didn’t used to think,” the redhead sighed. He felt like a tiny baby bird desperately hoping to not be kicked out of the nest.

But then, he seemed to sober completely. He stood straight and clenched Aziraphale’s waist, tipping him back slightly. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he insisted. Demanded, really.

Aziraphale was done. Whatever Crowley wanted in that moment he could have. He felt himself letting go for the first time in a long time. His reservations...pfft. His code of conduct...myeh. Crowley was there and he was so beautiful and tender and he...he…

Kissed him at last. Gently and then bolder. “It’s okay,” Crowley whispered urgently against his lips. His heart was soaring. “You’re okay. Do you want this? Do you want me like this? Do you want me at all?”

Aziraphale swallowed air and nodded. Burped and giggled. Crowley smiled at him as if charmed. “Where’s your room? Show me.”

The pair stumbled up the stairs haltingly, hands clenched. When they reached Aziraphale’s bed they collapsed, gravity winning as it always does. Crowley’s limbs felt like lead. He lurched onto his side, kissing Aziraphale’s throat and then...why were they so far apart?

Crowley reached out his arms but couldn’t find the blonde. His head hit the pillow.

Someone watching from the outside would have described it like this: So these two yokels are obviously trying to get it on, but they can’t tell arse from tea kettle. They made it as far as the bed before the blonde slipped off, getting stuck in the crack between it and the wall. The red-haired guy scrambled around like he was lost at sea, but it was just a queen-sized mattress. Then he passed out. Meanwhile, the blonde on the floor apparently never let go of his wine glass. He falls back onto the carpet, Merlot spilling all over himself. Even this isn’t enough to bring him back to reality. He blacks out.

And the rest, as they say...is history.

-

Aziraphale awoke several hours later with a splitting headache. His entire body screamed at him and he realized it was twisted in the most unnatural manner. He reached up one hand, clawing at the comforter until he could work his legs underneath him. What the fucking...

His eyes landed on the redhead in his bed. Fully clothed and drooling on a pillow, encased in moonlight. ‘Must be nice,’ Aziraphale pouted before realizing the seriousness of his predicament. Crowley had slept over. In his bed. Without him, but still.

Foggily, Aziraphale tried to bring the evening’s events back, but all he could remember were walls of black closing down around snippets of words. Did they… He looked down at himself and saw wine soaked deeply into his nicest suit. Scowling, he ambled toward the shower and stepped in without waiting for it to warm up or to even remove his clothing. Somehow he felt he deserved it.

He would have to fire Crowley as a client, he realized as he spread his shampoo over his hair and then down over his suit for good measure. This was totally beyond the pale. He’d never acted in a more irresponsible manner, but he could recover from it. Surely he could recover-

The shower curtain snapped back and Aziraphale shrieked in surprise. The fully naked man on the other side didn’t even wince, just stepped under the spray of water and opened his mouth.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale protested, hands covering his body as if he weren’t fully clothed. His eyes snapped down to the redhead’s cock. Uncut and longer than he’d imagined. Oh fuck, yeah...he’d imagined.

Crowley turned around, giving him an unabashed view of his arse for good measure. Aziraphale couldn’t have moved if he wanted to. Lazily, Crowley dipped under the shower head and braced against the wall.

“I can’t say that was my favorite evening with you,” the redhead said as if his hips weren’t pressed back only centimeters from Aziraphale’s front.

He flipped around and pressed against the soaked blonde, eyes flashing. “But the truth is I don’t remember much.” He smiled, still a little tipsy.

Aziraphale’s mouth opened and closed several times, at a loss for words. Crowley’s eyes scanned over him in confusion. “You’re taking a shower in your kit.”

“I am...it seems,” the blonde managed.

Crowley chuckled to himself and drew off the sopping wet bow-tie, unbuttoning the oxford next. “There are these things called washing machines,” he noted as he yawned.

Aziraphale watched his clever fingers move down to work on his trousers, still too shocked to register what was taking place. Crowley drew off his garments and let them pool in the water beneath. Once they were both fully nude, the redhead wrapped himself up in Aziraphale’s arms, and the blonde was surprised to find them closing around him. It felt right. It wasn’t so unlike one of their sessions, minus the apparel.

“I promised you that everything would be okay and I meant it.”

Aziraphale crumpled against the redhead. His head was pounding. “I need an aspirin.”

Crowley shut off the water and wrapped a towel around the blonde and then himself. He helped Aziraphale back to bed before leaving, only to return with a paper cup filled with water and a painkiller. He made sure Aziraphale finished it and tumbled back onto the bed, towel abandoned on the floor.

Aziraphale glanced down to see Crowley’s strong thigh encasing his lower half, but there wasn’t the scantest thought of arousal in his mind. He closed his eyes and the two fell back asleep, wet hair staining the pillows.

-

Aziraphale felt much better when he awoke the second time. The sun was shining into the room and Crowley was wrapped around him.

He shifted and Crowley warbled before straining up to kiss his cheek.

“Er...Sorry. That too forward?” Aziraphale blushed considering their state of undress.

“I have to be honest,” the blonde confessed. “This wasn’t how I imagined our evening would end.”

“No?” the redhead asked suggestively. “I’d love to hear the play by play.”

Crowley’s hips tilted up and Aziraphale got another good look at his cock. His own was still covered by the towel around his waist.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale said, averting his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Don’t look away,” Crowley said, voice muffled in the blonde’s neck. “I want you to see me.”

Aziraphale forced his gaze downward, but to be fair it didn’t take much convincing. Crowley was beginning to harden. Aziraphale’s hips lifted up scantly before he restrained himself.

“I don’t want this to be about our arrangement from before,” the redhead said gruffly. “I don’t think you do either.” He shifted up on his arms and straddled the blonde, cock stiff and straining. He traced a finger down Aziraphale’s arm until it landed on his hand. Slowly, he picked it up at the wrist and brought it toward his lips.

Aziraphale inhaled as Crowley licked and kissed his fingers one by one, sucking on his thumb at the last. The redhead’s eyes were closed as he directed Aziraphale’s hand down from his face, over his chest, past the small swell of his stomach. A tiny scar where his appendix used to be.

By the time it neared his weeping cock Aziraphale’s hand regained its agency. His fingers flexed and stroked over the head down to the base. Crowley stuttered against his palm wantonly.

Aziraphale sat up and claimed Crowley’s mouth, pulling him back down by the nape of his neck. His hand never left its grip on the redhead’s dick.

“Better than snuggling,” Crowley whispered as he sucked on Aziraphale’s throat, lathing over his Adam’s apple.

“Fuck!” Aziraphale hissed. He arched his back and rolled the redhead over, leaving his towel behind.

Aziraphale used his thick thigh to pry Crowley’s legs apart. “Is this how you want it?” He hardly recognized his own voice.

Crowley was malleable beneath him, his legs spreading to accommodate the blonde. “It’s all I think about,” he professed.

Aziraphale strained to reach the chest of drawers by his bed, pulling out a bottle of lube. He squirted a generous amount into his hand and pressed against the tight muscle between Crowley’s cheeks. The redhead let out some inhuman sound, like a whine and a shudder at the same time.

Aziraphale’s fingers bent and sought entrance, stroking past the ring as his own erection surged urgently against Crowley’s thigh.

“I didn’t touch myself,” Crowley said suddenly. “I didn’t want to do it without you. I wanted you to be the one.”

Aziraphale groaned and pushed two fingers deep.

“I wasn’t as patient,” he growled, and Crowley’s eyes went impossibly wide. “I milked myself every night thinking of you. Right after our second session.”

Crowley mewled, and it was so like a sound he’d made while they’d been cuddling that Aziraphale nearly lost it. 

“Ready for me?” he mumbled, fingers already drawing away.

Crowley captured his lips and sucked on his tongue in response. Aziraphale lined himself up knowing that he wouldn’t last long. When he pushed forward, the stars in heaven scattered to make way.

“Angel!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluffsmut? Sure!

“I’ve never been fired before, but I suppose I should have seen this coming.” Crowley was leaning against the doorway dripping water on the carpet.

Aziraphale glanced up and allowed his eyes to bathe over the redhead. Thin, yes, but strong and wirey. His broad chest narrowed down to slim hips and back into muscular thighs. Between them...mmm…

“What was coming?” the blonde asked archly. “Ah yes. You, as I recall. Not ten minutes ago. Enjoy your second shower of the day?”

Crowley flushed and it bloomed on his neck and chest as well. “Used soap this time.”

Aziraphale smiled, all teeth. “Good boy.”

Crowley practically lunged at him, wrestling him into the sheets, even fiercer post-coital. He nipped at the blonde’s collarbone and hummed. “Put your suit in the wash too.”

Aziraphale had a book propped up on his knees. Something about ancient Chinese acupuncture. He closed it. “Very good boy.” His voice went straight to Crowley’s cock.

Crowley purred into the blonde’s neck and wrapped around him like a snake.

Snuggling after sex wasn’t anything like the professional comforting Aziraphale had provided. Crowley felt even more enveloped, like they didn’t even occupy separate bodies anymore. He wiggled and shifted, each new arrangement of limbs bringing out a rush of endorphins. Dopamine for days.

He tried not to think about what would come next. Any attempt to divine the future would only result in lofty fantasies or worse, panic over losing what he’d found.

“I am sorry to see you go as a client,” Aziraphale sighed, interrupting the redhead’s train of thought. “But I must say I infinitely prefer this.” He kissed the part in Crowley’s hair.

“Zrmph fehh angel,” Crowley muttered nonsensically. ‘Iloveyousomuch!’ he screamed in his head. He didn’t dare let the words out.

They laid in bed for as long as they could, empty tummies notwithstanding, but at last Aziraphale pushed out of the sheets and stretched. “Can I tempt you with some brunch?” he asked the boneless redhead. “I’d love to make you something if you don’t have any objections.”

Crowley smiled up at him and sighed dreamily. “Ta.”

Aziraphale pulled on a robe and handed Crowley some tartan pajama pants. The redhead took them and scrunched the fabric in his hands. Why was everything about his angel so fucking perfect?

The blonde walked off to the kitchen and began calling out a list of options. Crowley followed soon after, tugging on the string around his skinny waist. “Whatever you think, angel,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the side of Aziraphale’s neck before collapsing on the sofa. He tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling as a barrage of delicious smells filled the kitchen.

Aziraphale’s phone rang, and Crowley snickered as he answered in his typical manner. 

“Aziraphale Fell! Oh, hello! I see. That sounds like a big challenge. Yes, yes of course.”

Crowley strained his ears as he realized the blonde was speaking to a client. He’d never really imagined it the other way round. He wondered how many clients he had?

“Later today?” Aziraphale craned his neck to look at Crowley, eyebrows raised. The redhead gave him a thumbs-up, indicating that the blonde should do whatever was necessary, even though he was startled to feel a bit insecure as he thought about his angel wrapped around somebody else. He pushed the feeling away. There was no way Aziraphale would do anything untoward. Especially not since they were together now.

Crowley jerked up suddenly, his eyes wide. But were they? He stared at the back of Aziraphale’s neck as he flipped a pancake on the griddle and finished his conversation. Was there a non-pathetic way to ask?

He frowned in desperation as Aziraphale piled two plates high with breakfast foods, a veritable feast. The blonde set them on the dining room table and motioned for Crowley to join him, adding two cups of fresh coffee to the spread.

“Mmm,” Aziraphale hummed as he breathed in the aromas on his steaming plate. “I’m famished!” He speared a sausage and delicately bit off one end. After recovering from his food orgasm he looked up at the redhead and noticed he hadn’t touched a thing.

“Not hungry?” he asked.

Crowley snapped out of his reverie with blushing cheeks and cradled his mug between his hands. “No, just uh...like watching you. That and um...had something on my mind.”

“Oh?” the blonde asked. “Do tell.”

“I just…” Crowley’s eyes roved around the room. “I wanted to know if this was exclusive. I mean, if we were. Doesn’t have to be if you don’t want, but I just thought I’d-”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said patiently. “I have no desire whatsoever to see anyone else. Do you think that’s agreeable?”

The redhead’s expression was dopey, to say the least. “Y-yeah…” he managed.

“Excellent,” Aziraphale replied before drinking from his mug. “It’s been some time since I’ve had a boyfriend, though. You might need to be patient with me.”

Crowley’s hands lurched and his coffee splashed all over the table. Aziraphale looked down at his plate with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Boyfriend. Well…” the redhead grumbled, and then in amazement, “Fuck me!”

“Alright.”

Aziraphale stood from his chair and captured Crowley’s wrist. Pulling him up easily, he swung beneath the redhead to pick him up in his arms. Crowley squeaked as his legs went around the blonde automatically and his face burned with embarrassment and desire.

“Are you sore, my dear?” Aziraphale asked as he walked toward the bedroom.

Crowley shook his head. He was, but not bad enough to turn down sex with Aziraphale. The blonde had been inordinately gentle with him. He gasped as Aziraphale dropped him down on the bed, immediately kissing all over Crowley’s chest. He dragged his tongue along the man’s collarbone and bit provocatively into his shoulder. By the time he made it down to a nipple Crowley was quaking with need.

“So beautiful,” Aziraphale whispered roughly as he sucked on Crowley’s nipple. “I could touch and taste you for an eternity.” His hands roved over Crowley’s thighs and hips, squeezing and kneading as he went. The redhead fell back onto the bed and gyrated under the assault.

Aziraphale sat up on his knees and flipped Crowley over, pulling down the pajamas to admire his pert arse. His palms slapped over the exposed flesh and his thumbs pressed into the part between Crowley’s legs, spreading him open.

The redhead surged up, pressing his arse against Aziraphale’s hands. The blonde pulled his pants off completely before diving in, his tongue exploring Crowley’s most delicate parts. Crowley’s hole was swollen and pliable, allowing Aziraphale to push his tongue inside with ease. Crowley cried out and bucked at the sensation.

Aziraphale relished the taste of his partner, licking and sucking until his spit trailed down the inside of the redhead’s thighs and Crowley was panting. His whines had turned into supplication at some point. He wanted more and Aziraphale knew it. Wickedly, he took his time dissolving the redhead into a shaking hot mess.

“Oh, Crowley,” he cooed adoringly as he kissed his hole softly. “I’d do anything for you. All you have to do is ask.” He pressed two lubed fingers inside and Crowley gasped. He could barely speak, let alone form coherent thoughts.

“Ffffuck!” the redhead cursed, frustrated. His leg muscles were struggling to hold himself up.

Aziraphale pressed down on his back and Crowley collapsed with a needful moan, absolutely writhing. Awareness dawned on the blonde at Crowley’s reaction.

“Do...do you like this? Being held down?” he whispered.

“Yesss!” Crowley hissed.

Aziraphale shuddered and shifted his body to line up as his fingers slicked out of the redhead. “Well then…” He pressed forward, using his hands to keep Crowley in place as he sank into him. Crowley was mewling on the bed, his fingers digging into the mattress.

Aziraphale snapped his hips forward and sighed. “Oooh god you’re heavenly, darling.”

Crowley whimpered desperately, revealing his second predilection for praise and encouragement. Aziraphale smiled knowingly. He drew himself out and hovered on the edge.

“I’ve never met someone so beautiful, inside and out,” he whispered. He dipped himself in the tiniest bit and Crowley sobbed. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” Aziraphale continued, pressing a few more inches inside. Crowley shook under him, trying to press up against the sensation, but Azirphale held him firm.

“You’re so kind, so giving...” Aziraphale moved in and out, never giving enough. He bent down, lips close the redhead’s ear. “I fucking adore you, Crowley.”

“Angel!” Crowley cried out and Aziraphale began to move in earnest, quickly riding the redhead to completion before following over the edge. He dropped down onto the bed and gently bit Crowley’s bicep, drawing the redhead’s dazed eyes toward him.

“How can you be like this?” Crowley asked, eyes wet with tears. Aziraphale tilted his head on the pillow and stroked his cheek. “How can you be so bloody perfect? I don’t deserve you!”

“Oh no no,” Aziraphale was quick to put out the building fire by squenching the life out of Crowley as he gathered him into his arms. “No talk like that, my dearest one. I know it’s hard to accept what I say to you. You’ve been through so much...you never deserved such cruel treatment.” He pressed a succession of quick kisses to the redhead’s temple. “I’ll prove it to you if you let me. I want nothing more than to show you how special you really are.”

Crowley calmed down and allowed himself to be held. To be adored. To be complete.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Crowley wants to do something special for his angel. It's a bit of a catastrophe.

Crowley bumped into the wall and looked up in surprise. He’d been reading and walking around the office, but not really even soaking in the words on the page. He sighed and clutched the pages in his hands to his chest.

“Oh God,” Anathema said behind him. “You’ve really got it bad.”

Crowley whirled around and fixed her with what he hoped was a severe frown. “Have what? I don’t have anything, Ana. Thank you very much! Now where are those reports you were supposed to give me?”

Anathema shook her head and slowly raised her finger, pointing to the documents already in his hand. Crowley’s eyes went wide and he slipped into his office, pretending to be offended. He slammed the door and leaned on it, trying not to melt.

“Angel, angel, angel,” he mumbled. “What have you reduced me to?”

His weekend with the blonde had been heavenly. It was like Aziraphale was taking years of stress off of him and replacing it steadily with pure affection. Although he’d made the staff cuts as he’d been directed, even that couldn’t seem to keep him down for long. All he needed to do was think of his angel to be redirected back toward bliss. It was...bloody distracting.

Aziraphale checked in with him several times a day. To say good morning, to ask about what he had for lunch, to wish him a good day...Crowley practically lived for those texts, fueling the high of being in love for the first time in a long time.

Because yes, he was in love, obviously. Smitten...enchanted...besotted… He’d barely kept the words bottled up but it felt like they were transmitting in waves from his body. He didn’t want to rush things or scare the angel off, but he did want to find a way to express his feelings and show Aziraphale how much he appreciated him. He chewed on his lower lip during most of the week, trying to come up with something amazing.

On Thursday, he called Aziraphale and asked him to come to his flat on Saturday night. He spent most of that day gathering supplies, finally hunkering down in the kitchen with a recipe book he’d purchased just for the occasion. He picked up the French Cuisine manual and began to mark several pages. Surely Aziraphale would appreciate such a classic and refined menu.

He ended up settling on French onion soup, baked ratatouille, and a berry galette. He rubbed his hands together before leaving to secure all of the necessary ingredients, stopping to grab a bouquet of flowers as well. Once he got back home with arms full of groceries, he began to dump everything out onto his kitchen island. A few of the onions rolled off onto the floor but he caught the jar of tomato basil sauce before it followed, a near miss. He realized he was incredibly nervous to be cooking for the angel, who had a rather refined palette. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea after all…

Steeling himself, Crowley began to sort out his soup by slicing the onions. Of course, he’d only just begun when his eyes began to water painfully. He sniffed, trying to keep them more or less closed while he worked, which naturally led to a rather angry cut on the back of one finger. Cursing angrily, he went to the bathroom to fetch a plaster and ended up putting on a rubber kitchen glove to protect the gash from more unhappy meetings with his knife.

The hours stretched on, and Crowley had nearly everything in order. He’d only just finished the pasty dough for the galette when he realized it was exceptionally sticky. It wasn’t supposed to be sticky at all. He kept adding more flour to compensate, but soon it turned into a congealed lump in his food processor. He huffed as he eyed the stubborn dough menacingly, but it didn’t have the desired effect. He pushed the machine off to the side, deciding that Aziraphale would never have to know he’d been planning dessert.

Speaking of the blonde, he arrived right on time not a half hour later. He inhaled luxuriously as he walked in to greet his boyfriend, eyes lingering on the kitchen area. There were a tremendous number of dishes and bowls piled up on the counter. Crowley had been a little too frazzled to clean up properly.

“Just what have you been up to my dear?” the blonde asked, a smile warming his face.

Crowley blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just slaving away to ensure my angel has a delicious, home-cooked meal,” he grinned.

Aziraphale sat down at the dinner table and wiggled in his seat. “I had no idea you cooked! It smells delightful!”

Crowley opened a bottle of wine and brought out the first course, sitting to watch as Aziraphale stuck his spoon into the melted cheese on top of his soup. Crowley’s eyebrows raised expectantly as the blonde took his first bite, only to see him look more thoughtful than anything else.

“What’s wrong?” the redhead asked nervously. He realized he was gritting his teeth and consciously unclenched them.

“Oh!” Aziraphale flustered. “Nothing at all it’s just...I thought it was french onion soup but I must be mistaken. What kind is it, my dear? Some kind of beef bouillon?”

Crowley jerked and hurried to scoop the cheese on his soup aside before practically sobbing. “Oh my god! I forgot to put the onions in!” He glanced over at the stovetop where the carmelized onions had been abandoned.

“No worry!” Aziraphale said. “We can still add them…”

“Ffft! Nyeh! No!” Crowley argued. “It won’t be the same. I’ve ruined it! But at least we still have the ratatouille!” He got up and ran over to the oven, pulling out a large dish. Smoke filled the room as Crowley jumped back. “Oh, fuck!”

Aziraphale went to help but Crowley only waved him away. The ratatouille was hopelessly burnt. Aziraphale didn’t look the least bit bothered. “I suppose we can skip the main meal and go straight to dessert!” the blonde suggested cheerfully.

Crowley looked at him with hollow eyes before tears began to spill down his cheeks.

“Oh, oh! No my dearest! No my darling. Shh,” Aziraphale soothed him, wrapping the skinny redhead into his arms and chuckling slightly.

“I just wanted it to be special!” Crowley lamented. “You’re so good to me and you do so much for me and I don’t do anything!”

“How can you say that?” the blonde tutted. “You don’t have to do. You only have to be.”

Crowley tried to absorb the words, but he was too scattered. His brain flashed an unhelpful image of Aziraphale leaving him...finding someone better. Someone who could at least cook, for fuck’s sake! He squirmed out of his angel’s arms and went to his knees, immediately fumbling with the blonde’s belt buckle.

“Whoah!” Aziraphale said in a tone that immediately made Crowley freeze. He slowly looked up at the blonde and swallowed.

“Y-you don’t want…?” the redhead’s lower lip was wobbling, his tears threatening to burst forth once again.

Aziraphale moved carefully as he bent down to Crowley’s level, joining him on the ground. He reached out and took his hands in his own, squeezing gently. “What I want is to share intimate moments with you out of mutual enjoyment and consent. What I do not want is for you to think, even for one second, that if you make a mistake - no matter how grave, that you owe me sexual favors. I don’t want you to give out of guilt. You don’t owe me anything, understand? That’s not us, Crowley.”

The redhead inhaled deeply and allowed Aziraphale to lift him up. He carried him to his bedroom and laid him down, tucking the blanket around his shoulders before laying next to him and stroking his cheek.

“I wish you could see what I see,” the blonde said earnestly. “How exceedingly thoughtful and lovely you are. No one’s ever even tried to cook for me before. So regardless how you feel about the way it turned out, I am so flattered and grateful you would even make the attempt.”

Crowley gazed into his bright blue eyes and smiled weakly. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely!” Aziraphale assured him. “Though I might suggest we cook together, another time. Maybe I could bring you up to speed on a few tricks of the trade.” Crowley’s smile turned into a hopeful grin.

“Now then,” Aziraphale went on. “Let’s see if we can salvage our dinner situation. I know a lovely pizza delivery place. Best stick to something simple.”

He fumbled with his phone and began to put in an order for takeaway. Crowley peered over his shoulder and helped make a few selections, growing more and more content with the situation. It wasn’t the end of the world, after all. A few burnt pans and cooking fails to learn from.

Aziraphale completed their order and set his phone aside. “You know, one day we’ll look back and laugh about all of this,” he smiled. “It might take some time to see the humor in it, but maybe in the coming months you’ll feel differently.”

Crowley stared at the blonde and his mouth fell slightly open. His angel thought they would still be together MONTHS from now? He felt a shiver down his spine and a spasm in his chest, and he could absolutely not take it anymore. Not even for a second.

“I-I love you,” he sputtered, fingers digging into Aziraphale’s shirt.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft soft sffttt... (words deflate into goo)

Crowley’s heart was fit to burst. He had just muttered the absolute secret of his inner soul, practically serving himself up on a platter for Aziraphale to consume. For his part, the blonde looked stunned.

“I mean…” Crowley sputtered, trying to fill the empty space. He meant it, didn’t he? Yes he did. It’s not like it was a lie. It just came out a bit sooner than he’d expected. He held his breath, waiting for Aziraphale to respond. Anything, even a thank you would suffice.

The blonde looked at him slowly, his cheeks turning rosy and his wide eyes letting in enough light to show little flecks of green in the bloom of his irises.

“You love me?” he asked.

Crowley’s eyes darted around the room as he shrank back into the pillow. “Well uh...rrrr-right...yeah.”

Aziraphale gave him a little frown that was actually a smile. “Oh Crowley…” he breathed. “If that isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” He cupped the redhead’s face and tilted him backward, kissing him gently on the lips.

Crowley melted back into the pillow and let go of a thousand years of heartache. Being in love wasn’t something he should have feared. Not with Aziraphale. He giggled and wrapped a long leg around the blonde’s waist. He didn’t need to hear it back. He really didn’t. It just felt so good to say and have it be accepted wholeheartedly.

But the way Aziraphale kissed him left him in no doubt that the blonde felt an equal level of enchantment. What they had was so special. They complemented each other in nearly every way. Soft and sharp edges. Unbearable lightness and excess baggage. A robust heart and a broken one. Yet they met in the middle and made something stronger and better than what there was before.

“You are so special to me,” Aziraphale whispered as he kissed down Crowley’s neck. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Do you know? If only I could put it into words, but I want you to feel it. Can I show you, darling?”

Crowley gargled out some type of affirmative response as Aziraphale’s fingers roamed over his chest and stomach. And then he was pulling the redhead on top of him, carefully pulling layers of clothing off as his eyes sparkled with wonder.

“What a beautiful creature you are,” Aziraphale murmured. “It’s like you were made for me.”

He made short work of their trousers and pants, and Crowley grabbed his lube from a nearby drawer. “You want me like this?” he asked, returning to his seat in the blonde’s lap.

“Oh yes, that’s so perfect darling,” Aziraphale whispered. He was already leaking as he allowed Crowley to spread the lube on his fingers, and wasted no time reaching down to prepare the redhead.

Crowley moaned as the first finger circled and entered him, watching Aziraphale’s face relax and breathe with him.

“I love feeling you like this,” the blonde sighed. “You’re so hot and wet, Crowley. Can you open up for me sweetheart?”

The redhead leaned back as he held onto Aziraphale’s knees, relaxing his passage. Aziraphale slipped a second finger inside of him and groaned. “So quick for me,” he cooed. “I could watch you like this for ages, Crowley.”

Crowley shuddered as he felt Aziraphale’s fingers reach his prostate. “I want you now,” he begged.

“Soon, my darling,” the blonde promised, eventually adding a third finger. Crowley stretched open like a flower as he took his pleasure. He bucked forward, circling his hips as Aziraphale stared at him, mouth slightly open.

“Look at you,” the blonde breathed. “Look how you move for me. Beautiful...so beautiful.”

Crowley let out a restrained cry and took Aziraphale’s cock in hand, pumping it in time. “I’m ready!” he swore. “Please, Aziraphale!”

The blonde poured a little more of the lube on his erection and urged Crowley down onto him, both shivering at the contact before he pressed inside. Crowley wanted to take him in all at once, but Aziraphale held his hips as he eased in, always careful and considerate, even when Crowley was being greedy. At last, he allowed himself in to the hilt, and the redhead groaned.

“Alright, darling,” Aziraphale smiled, just as hungry for it as his boyfriend. “Take what you want now.”

Crowley surged up and down, creating a rapid fire pace that was sure to break them both in a matter of minutes.

“You feel like heaven,” Aziraphale murmured. “God, it’s so good, Crowley.”

The redhead’s breath came out in tiny gasps as he drove himself on, never missing a beat. He looked down at Aziraphale and his mouth fell open.

“Love you…” he said in a choked voice, his orgasm building into a fever pitch.

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale groaned, his fingers digging into the redhead’s hips. “I...oh fuck...yes darling!”

Crowley shuddered and came untouched, and the sight of it did Aziraphale in. They struggled to do anything other than ride out the intensity of the sensation. Crowley wasn’t sure when he slid from his boyfriend’s lap and landed on the bed next to him. His face was flushed and his body was drenched in sweat. He felt amazing. Elated. And as he relaxed, also realized he was starving.

“Mph...food,” the redhead croaked.

Aziraphale’s phone dinged and he picked it up with a limp wrist. “Yes...looks like we timed that perfectly.” He reached over to stroke Crowley’s cheek and rubbed his thumb over his red lips. “Though I’d much rather sit in bed and adore you.”

“You’d give up a meal for me angel?” Crowley joked.

Aziraphale smiled at him. “My dear...you are a meal.”

Crowley blushed and buried his head in the pillow. “Shaddup,” he growled happily.

A knock on the door interrupted them, but Aziraphale got up first and pressed Crowley back into the sheets. “Oh no, darling,” he said. “You stay right here. And don’t you dare put any clothing on.”

Crowley blushed even harder but complied as the blonde stretched and grabbed his boyfriend’s thin silk robe. He winked at the redhead before getting the door, and was back in a flash with their dinner. He set the box on the bed and Crowley reached for it, only to have his hand slapped away.

“Absolutely not,” Aziraphale grinned lecherously. “I intend to feed you bite by bite. Does that work for you?”

Crowley felt like he was going to combust internally. He nodded and agreed weakly.

Aziraphale pulled out the first piece and dangled it into his boyfriend’s mouth, watching as he tongued over the melting cheese on the end. He bit into the wedge and groaned before swallowing. “That’s amazing…” he sighed.

Aziraphale took the second bite and had to agree. “Nobody does it like Alfredo. I met him a few years ago as I was scouring the city for the perfect pie. He told me they use a secret family recipe but I believe it’s the fact that they brown their garlic first.”

Crowley laughed as Aziraphale dangled the next bite in front of him. “How can something so small make such a big difference?” he asked before chomping down on the slice.

Aziraphale seemed to consider the question seriously before replying. “I often find that the little things are the most essential in almost every experience. I don’t think my job would be as impactful if I didn’t find something very special about every one of my clients. Things that others would often overlook.”

Crowley watched him take a bite of their shared slice. “Did you do that with me?”

The blonde wiggled happily as he swallowed down another mouthful. “With you, Crowley,” he said softly, “There were so many wonderful little things I had to stop counting.”

Crowley stared at him with flushed cheeks.

They went to bed early that night after a long shower, and Crowley was the first to fall asleep. Aziraphale had hardly turned off the light before the redhead began to snore softly.

Aziraphale reached out to play with his fingers, folding them around his own before letting them go slack. He tracked the quick movements of Crowley’s pupils under his eyelids, wondering what he was dreaming about. He hoped it was himself.

He basked in the redhead’s presence, his sweet gentle breaths and the way his cold feet seemed to search for his own under the covers. So many others would think Crowley an insecure, needful thing, but Aziraphale knew better. Crowley was a rare being with an unfathomable capacity to love. Aziraphale tried not to be jealous of the fact that Crowley likely cared deeply for almost everyone (not to mention every creature and plant-based life form) he ever met, even if he didn’t show it outwardly.

But he’d said he loved him. He’d actually used the words.

Aziraphale would have said it back, but he realized that Crowley would feel it long before he could accept it for himself. He knew they were both swept up in the whirlwind of their romance and it was a tender time to be cherished. Such things needed to be cultivated and cared for like fragile seedlings.

He settled into his pillow and closed his eyes, trying to match Crowley’s breaths.

“My love,” he whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up with these sweet softies. Thanks to everyone for reading!

Six months passed by in a blur, and Crowley’s confidence soared beyond his highest expectations. Aziraphale knew how to calm him down. How to lift him up. How to hold him until he felt balanced and safe. Things couldn’t be more perfect between them...except…

Crowley had purchased tickets to the ballet and was waiting outside of the theater. It had started to rain, so he shuffled back under the awning and looked at his phone for the fifth time. No messages or calls from his boyfriend. He huffed to himself and stared out into the wet street. He didn’t have many options but to wait patiently...or impatiently.

Twenty minutes went by and finally, a blonde head bobbed up above a group of people crossing the street.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said anxiously. “I’m here!”

The blonde looked uncharacteristically rumpled as he arrived at his boyfriend’s side. “I know I’m late,” he said quickly. “Let’s get in, shall we?”

The pair of them were forced to wait outside of the main auditorium until the end of the first act, and in that time Crowley began to look more and more upset.

“What happened?” the redhead said finally, as if forcing himself to use his words.

Aziraphale looked at him with some surprise. He’d just been scanning the program in his hands. “Ah. Just some trouble concluding a session.” He offered no more explanation.

Crowley knew that Aziraphale prized his clients’ privacy, but for some reason he wanted to push for something more. He was feeling unsteady, and oddly suspicious. “They...didn’t want to let you go?” he asked, fingernails digging into his palms.

Aziraphale looked confused. Crowley had never pressed him about his work like this before, but he relented. “Other way around, actually. It was a bit of a crisis situation.”

Crowley glared at the blonde. “More critical than meeting your boyfriend on time for a special event?” he snapped.

An usher appeared at that moment, finally allowing them to head inside. Aziraphale followed after Crowley with trepidation. This evening was not going to end well. As if to prove it, Aziraphale tried to take the redhead’s hand and it was unceremoniously jerked away.

The show didn’t have an intermission, so another full hour went by before they spoke again. They ended up walking back to Crowley’s under a light drizzle. Aziraphale offered to share his umbrella, but the redhead dismissed him. Now the blonde was getting peeved. He waited until they went inside the flat to try any further explanation.

“Look. I understand you’re upset,” Aziraphale began. “I know you worked hard to make tonight special for me, and you’re disappointed I was late…”

“Stop that!” Crowley said irritably. The blonde looked at him innocently and the redhead elaborated. “Putting words in my mouth. I hate that.”

“Okay,” Aziraphale said slowly. “Would you like to tell me how you feel?”

“No!” Crowley pouted, throwing his wet overcoat over the sofa and crossing his arms.

“My dear, you know I take my work very seriously-”

“Of course I do!” Crowley interrupted, stomping his foot on the ground. “It takes precedence over everything else! I feel like I saw you more when I was still your client!”

Aziraphale was careful to not roll his eyes. Both of them knew it was an outrageous exaggeration...but apparently the redhead was working his way up to something else.

Crowley’s shoulders sagged and he leaned against the kitchen island, looking miserable. “I just wanted you to be there,” he said. “On time. And you didn’t call or message. I just kept waiting and waiting…” Aziraphale saw the first tear trying to escape out of the corner of his boyfriend’s eye, and something clicked.

“You thought I wasn’t coming?” he asked in alarm.

The redhead stiffened, a classic tell that Aziraphale had hit the mark. “No! I mean… Maybe on purpose or maybe not. Maybe you’d been in an accident. Maybe you’d just...found something better to do.”

Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to hug Crowley close, but he sensed he wasn’t finished yet. “I told you…” Crowley swallowed and laughed bitterly. “I told you that I loved you and you didn’t say it back...not in this entire time we’ve been together. And it’s not like you have to- I wouldn’t force you. It’s not like I need it. But I thought if you didn’t show up tonight...maybe that was you’re way of saying something else.”

Aziraphale could no longer deny his basest impulse. He closed the distance between them and pinched Crowley’s chin between his fingers, forcing him to look down into his unwavering eyes.

“I’ve loved you every day since we met in increasing measure.”

Something about the intensity of Aziraphale’s gaze left no room for argument. Crowley could have protested or refused to believe him, but it would have been a waste of breath and energy. Instead, the redhead focused solely on his boyfriend’s shining eyes and jumped in a way he’d never done before - a stunning leap of faith toward what he’d always wanted to deserve, but didn’t believe he could until then.

“Th-thank you,” he said openly. He pulled the blonde closer until he could nuzzle into his soft curls. Aziraphale sighed in his arms and they held each other for a long, long time. When they finally broke apart, the redhead was giving his boyfriend a knowing look.

“Our first fight…” he mused. “What’s next then? Wet towels on the floor? The clicking sound my jaw makes when I eat?”

Aziraphale giggled. “It’s all so properly domestic, isn’t it?” He squeezed Crowley’s shoulders and gave him an endearing smile. “I can’t promise we won’t ever fight or argue...or that I’ll always know the right way to act in the moment. But I can promise you that anything you have to say, in any context, will be heard.”

Crowley nodded. “Will you say it again?” he asked softly.

Aziraphale stared at him in total adoration. “That I love you? Crowley, you must know how many times I’ve longed to tell you. Every morning that you wake up by my side. At the movies, when you let me steal all of your popcorn. Especially when you cook for me. I don’t mind that the asparagus is overdone or if you’ve forgotten to buy salad dressing for the hundredth time. Not at all. In fact, those little hiccups just make me love you more. Every imperfection is a part of you, just as all of your wonderful qualities.”

The redhead sniffed and tried to hide the red patches burning his cheeks. “Y’still haven’t said it. Properly.”

Aziraphale shot him a brilliant smile as he took Crowley’s hands down from his face and kissed his knuckles one by one. “I love you,” he replied. “With all of my heart.”

Crowley stifled an elated giggle and sagged against the blonde. “M’love you too,” he mumbled into his shoulder.

“Shall I show you?” Aziraphale asked, his voice going low and husky.

Crowley hummed and pulled away slightly, so he could see the blonde’s face. “Actually...it’s stupid,” he began.

“What?” Aziraphale prompted, using his fingers to tuck a strand of red hair behind his boyfriend’s ear. “Anything you want.”

“Will you just hold me?” Crowley asked, somehow more embarrassed to ask for that over sex itself. “Like you used to?”

Aziraphale beamed at him, leading him back to the bedroom. “It really has been a while,” he admitted as he helped Crowley lay down, spooning behind him. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather insatiable when it comes to you, my darling.”

Crowley snuggled back into Aziraphale’s warmth and cooed softly. “I don’t mind...I mean...I can hardly resist shagging the life out of you everytime I see you but...I also like this. I love it when you hold me.”

Aziraphale’s arms tightened around his middle. “There’s nothing else like it,” he said. “With my clients, you know, it’s all about giving them comfort. But when I hold you, I feel like I’m getting as much, if not more, in return. Maybe you’ve secretly been the professional comforter all along.”

Crowley snickered and rolled over, snaking his limbs all around the blonde. “I could spend the rest of my life like this…” he said dreamily. His nose nuzzled into his boyfriend’s neck contentedly.

“Maybe you should,” Aziraphale said carefully.

Crowley’s heart stopped beating as he pulled away, taking measure of Aziraphale’s expression. It was so certain...so unyielding. “Ngk.”

“You’ve started me on a dangerous path now,” the blonde said. “Once the floodgates are open everything will start pouring out. Maybe we should start with this…” He fumbled in his pocket, bringing out a keyring and holding it out for Crowley’s inspection.

“I’ve been carrying a spare now for quite some time,” Aziraphale revealed. He easily removed the key to his flat and placed it in Crowley’s palm, gently folding his fingers over it. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this splendid place behind but-”

The redhead snatched the key away as if Aziraphale might take it back. “No, I-” he said hurriedly. “I mean...this place is so empty and meaningless...especially without you in it. Am I jumping ahead or do you mean-”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale laughed. “I would love to have you come live with me. If you want.”

The redhead let out a startled cry and began to tremble. “Y-yes,” he said.

Aziraphale kissed him soundly and rested his head back on the pillow. “I’m incredibly happy to hear that, my dear. Of course, we’ll need to negotiate furniture and-”

Crowley cut him off. “I’ll sell all of it. Don’t need it. None of it means anything. This is just a...a landing point. But your place...that’s home. I love everything inside of it. Everything that’s associated with you.”

Aziraphale’s face melted into infinite tenderness. “Oh, my love…”

“Well...maybe I should bring the sofa,” Crowley countered, arching an eyebrow.

“Don’t you dare!” Aziraphale gasped, tickling the redhead to punish him for the suggestion.

Crowley howled hysterically, kicking at the sheets as he struggled to get away, but Aziraphale held him down, caging him in his arms. He held him tightly, and then relaxed his muscles as their laughter subsided, knowing that Crowley would stay exactly where he was. That he would stay wherever they were, together.


End file.
